


Dear Fellow Traveler

by profoundfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Major spoilers for Season 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 15:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/profoundfangirl/pseuds/profoundfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam are closing in on the third trial, getting ready to slam the gates of Hell shut forever. What they don’t need in their life right now are any extra complications, but since when has the life of a Winchester ever been easy?</p>
<p>Dean and Sam rescue Kevin from Crowley, and bring Castiel back to their bunker because he’s injured. But that’s not the complicated part. A man from Dean’s past suddenly comes back, and makes him question what Castiel means to him. Dean will have to figure out how to handle his emotions, while still helping Sam through the trials.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in canon, between 8x21 “The Great Escapist” and 8x22 “Clip Show”. To me, I just couldn’t see Dean leaving Kevin, after getting that upset about him possibly being dead. So I think the brothers took him back to the Men of Letters bunker with them. If you watch the end of the episode, they never show the backseat of the Impala, so it’s very likely that Kevin is back there. 
> 
> This is my head canon, and no one can take it from me. 
> 
>  
> 
> Originally written as part of the [DeanCasBigBang](http://deancasbigbang.livejournal.com/) on LJ. 
> 
> Art work from the lovely Veloshe can be found [here](http://veloshe.livejournal.com/1188.html) (with slight spoilers).

_The Road So Far…_

Dean and Sam have just left Colorado, after meeting Metatron, the scribe of God. He wasn’t what the brothers had been expecting, but he was able to rescue Kevin Tran from Crowley. Both Metatron and Kevin then revealed what the third and final trial is: To cure a demon.

Concerned about the prophet, Dean and Sam decide to take Kevin back with them to Kansas. Along the road, they find Castiel injured and in need of help. They load him into the Impala and head back to their base.

***

_Lawrence, Kansas – Present Day_

Lawrence is one of those towns most people don’t give a second glance. It is an average sized town, with average businesses, and average people. Tonight those people are going about their average lives. Shopkeepers are locking their doors, as people head home to have dinner with their families. It is nearing sunset, as the town quiets down for another evening. The sky is a vibrant orange, stretching out across the Kansas plains.

However, this night is not the same as any other. The idyllic sunset is quickly ruined as ominous gray clouds roll in, darkening the sky instantly. Thunder rolls through the town, like a tsunami, drowning out all sounds of life below. Lightning bolts manifest from nowhere, faster than any meteorologist could have predicted. The wind howls, fierce and deafening, scaring the local residents into thinking that a tornado has decided to pay them an unannounced visit. People run for shelter, shepherding their families into basements and cellars, to wait out the storm.

One house in particular seems to be at the eye of the storm. The wind screeches through the town, but it is eerily still at this residence. As if the storm were only happening around it, like some kind of malevolent snow globe. Then one bright bolt of lightning strikes the front yard of the house. A smell like burnt ozone whips through the air. After that, the storm clears as if it had never been there. Clouds dissipate, and the world normalizes. People cautiously head outdoors again to assess the damage and find nothing out of place.

Except for the body lying in the front of that quiet house – a body that wasn’t there before. The body of a man who used to live in that very house, before a demon and a fire took everything from him.

The body of a man who died long ago.

John Winchester is back in Kansas.


	2. Chapter 2

_Men of Letters bunker, Lebanon, Kansas_

Amazingly, Dean, Sam, and their two new passengers make it back to the bunker in one piece. Either Crowley isn’t tracking Kevin, or he has been distracted by some other toy. Dean doesn’t want to know as long as it doesn’t involve them. He is just happy to see the door of the bunker when they arrive. Kevin helps Sam grab the gear out of the trunk, as the younger Winchester is still a little unstable on his feet.

“Take him to his room, Kevin, I’ll be right behind you,” Dean says, opening the back door of the Impala to drag Castiel out. Dean hoists Cas out of the car, carrying almost all of the angel’s weight on one shoulder.

“What the hell happened to you man?”

“Crowley…” Cas breaks off to wheeze a few times. “Created…new…weapon.” It takes all of Castiel’s effort just to get those few words out.

“This new weapon, effective at hurting angels?” Dean asks. Castiel nods in response.

“Well, we can figure all that out later. Lucky for us, we have a place to hide while we get you healed up. Welcome to the Batcave, Cas.”  
“This place –“ Cas slurs, as his head rolls to the side.

“It’s safe Cas,” Dean interrupts, “No one knows about it except for Sammy and me. No one will find us here.”

“Not warded … against angels…” Cas manages to scold him, even while injured.

Dean knew this question would come up eventually, but he wasn’t expecting it to happen like this. He had left the warding off for a specific reason.

“When I prayed to you, I wanted you to be able to come here. If you wanted to…” Dean trails off.

Castiel stares at Dean, fighting for breath and words. Dean can feel a chick flick moment coming on, and he heads it off at the pass. Now is so not the time.

“Don’t worry about it Cas. Let’s just get you taken care of.”

Dean helps Castiel over the threshold and into the shelter.

***  
It’s a good thing the Men of Letters bunker is meant to house an entire secret society. Sam and Dean each have their own bedrooms, which is nothing short of a miracle after growing up sleeping side-by-side in dingy motel rooms. There are still more than enough rooms to accommodate their two new houseguests. Dean makes sure Kevin has his room figured out, then goes to check on Sam. 

Sam is already passed out on top of his bed, fully clothed and mouth hanging open, dead to the world. Poor kid has been so beat up since his trip to Hell to free Bobby’s soul, which Dean had expected, of course. It’s not like it was a trip to the store for a gallon of milk. God, when did their lives get this complicated?

Next, Dean goes to check on Castiel. He is also lying fully clothed on his bed, but his breathing is erratic and he is gripping his stomach in pain. Dean lifts up his shirt, to bandage the wound. Castiel may be an angel, but Dean is going to treat him like he is human. He doesn’t know any other way.

“What did Crowley do to you man? You should be healing by now.”

“Found an angel blade… melted it into bullets,” Cas rasps to Dean, flinching when Dean presses on his stomach.

“Huh,” Dean comments, running that idea through his brain. Crowley may be an asshole, but he also may have just invented a foolproof weapon for fighting angels. Could come in handy if Naomi, or any of those dicks, come looking for Cas.

“Do you need anything?” Dean asks, “Some special angel medicine or a spell or something?”

“Just rest,” Cas replies, “Try not to use my powers.”

“Well, like I said, this is a safe place. I can put up some warding now that you’re here. At least you’ve got the angel tablet, and no one knows where you are.”

Castiel doesn’t respond to Dean, except to weakly nod, as Dean leaves him to rest.

***

The next morning at breakfast, the mood is somber. Sam is practically falling asleep at the table. Kevin picks at his scrambled eggs, not doing much more than push them around his plate. Dean knows Kevin needs some time to deal with his issues, but at least he’s in the bunker now where he’ll be safe. Castiel wanders into the kitchen, looking slightly more alert than he had the night before. His crumpled trench coat tells Dean that the angel had tried to sleep in his clothes. If he’s going to stay here for long they might have to teach him about pajamas.

Castiel walks over and plucks Dean’s coffee mug out of his hands. Before Dean can protest, Cas is inhaling the steam, humming softly as he takes a drink. Dean quirks an eyebrow over to Sam and Kevin, to see if they’ve noticed. They are both staring at the angel as well, with slightly shocked looks on their faces. Cas must sense all the eyes on him and looks up.

“I seem to have acquired a taste for it,” he explains to the group.

Dean can feel a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. The angel is always full of surprises. Dean draws in a breath to playfully lecture Cas about stealing another man’s caffeine, but is derailed when both Sam and his cell phones ring at the same time. They look at each other before answering.

“Mine’s from Charlie,” Dean explains.

“Blocked number,” Sam replies, as he moves into the next room to answer his phone.

Dean shrugs, as he answers his phone with a gruff, “Winchester.”

“Whoa, somebody didn’t have his coffee yet, am I right?”

Dean doesn’t know how to tell Charlie she just hit the nail on the head. “I figured if I answered all cheery, you’d assume I’d been replaced by body snatchers.”

“A likely possibility,” Charlie agrees.

“So, what’s up Charlie? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, of course!” she replies, just a little bit too cheery, “You know me. Can’t keep a good woman down!”

“Charlie,” Dean sighs, slipping into his authoritative voice.

“Okay, fine,” Charlie relents, “It’s just that we had the funeral for my mom last week, and I don’t know where to go. I was hoping I could come crash with you and Sam for a few days? I promise you won’t even know I’m there. I can organize your monster files, or help come up with a better security system…” Charlie rattles off nervously.

And doesn’t that just make Dean feel like an asshole. Yeah, they have a lot on their plates, with Sam and the trials, Cas and the angel tablet, rescuing Kevin from Crowley – but Charlie is also his friend. The list of Dean’s remaining friends isn’t that long. He feels like he should be better about staying in touch with all of them. Especially the one who just lost her mother, because damn it if he doesn’t know exactly what that feels like.

“Charlie, stop talking,” Dean barks.

“Geez. Okay, I get it. Third wheel makes things awkward. I’ll just check into a motel –“

“No, shut up so I can say yes.”

Dean can practically hear Charlie’s relieved smile on the other end of the phone. 

“Thanks Dean! This means a lot to me, really. And I’m just down the road. Should be there in half an hour.”

“No problem, Charlie. And don’t worry about being the third wheel. We are also currently housing a prophet and an Angel of the Lord.”

Dean doesn’t miss the sharp intake of breath on the other end of the phone.

“Are you telling me I actually get to meet Castiel?!” Charlie shrieks in delight, “I hope he’s just as dreamy as the books described him.”

Dean groans as he hangs up the phone. He really should have beaten Chuck when he had the chance.

***

Charlie arrives at the bunker and quickly takes over another spare room. Dean wants to ask about her mother, how the funeral went, and offer his sympathies. But, he knows if Charlie is anything like him, she’d rather not talk about it. So he stays quiet on the topic. Charlie can bring it up when she is ready.

Charlie had already gotten a tour the last time she had been in the bunker, but she keeps peering down hallways, and into rooms, looking for something. Or, more likely, someone. Dean thinks she couldn’t be more obvious if she tried.

“So where’s Sam?” Charlie asks, looking around as if the taller Winchester were her only concern.

“Supply run. He should be back soon,” Dean answers, “Let’s go meet the other residents of Hotel Winchester.” 

Dean hadn’t been happy about letting Sam leave the bunker, but he insisted on being helpful. Sam didn’t like feeling run down and useless. Dean had let him go alone, while he stayed behind to keep an eye on their other guests. Dean leads Charlie into the main library to find Kevin and Castiel playing a game of chess. 

“Hey guys, I want you to meet somebody. This is Charlie. Charlie, this is Kevin Tran,” Dean pauses as they shake hands, “and this is Castiel.”

Charlie has gone still beside him. In fact, she’s doing a rather good impression of Castiel’s earlier days, by staring intently at the figure in front of her. Dean looks from her to Cas, and back again. Then he looks over to Cas, to try and see what Charlie is seeing.

He just sees Castiel. Same slender body covered in an old suit and trench coat, tie still on backwards no matter how many times Dean had shown him how to fix it properly. His hair, as always, is an artful mess. Dean had teased him once about spending more time learning how to style his hair, than he did hunting demons. Cas had just glared at him, but it had lacked his Spiteful Angel look, like that night in Bobby’s kitchen, so many years earlier.

In fact, Castiel has looked more worn out than ever these days, Dean realizes. Ever since the Leviathan fiasco, Castiel’s all-powerful smiting look has been missing from his eyes. The look had been gone when he was Emmanuel, then a patient in the hospital, and in Purgatory. Even when he was angeled up again, he hadn’t been the same. Dean knew there was something off the night they found Alfie and Cas ran away with the angel tablet. Dean now knows hiding the tablet had something to do with Naomi, but Castiel hasn’t gone into detail about her. Dean will have to ask Cas about that soon. 

Dean’s train of thought gets interrupted as Charlie gets up the nerve to actually talk to Castiel.

“So, what do you do to stay busy – you know chillin’ in the Batcave all day long?” Charlie asks.

“I still don’t understand that reference,” Cas deadpans.

“You’re joking, right?” Charlie responds.

“No, he’s actually not,” Dean replies, “He never gets any of my really cool jokes.”

“Dean would prefer it if I were current on popular culture, but obviously there are many more important things that have taken up my time,” Castiel explains, as if it should be apparent to the humans in the room that global wars between Heaven and Hell take precedence over action movies and comic books.

“This is unacceptable,” Charlie proclaims, “We must teach him our ways.”

Cas has a puzzled look on his face, like he can’t figure out what to say to this odd human in front of him. That earns a smile and small chuckle from Kevin, who has been all too quiet lately. That settles it in Dean’s mind. They could all use a break.

“I’ll get the projector set up,” he announces.

Thirty minutes later, Dean, Cas, Charlie and Kevin are watching a marathon of Batman movies in the Men of Letters study. Charlie had insisted that they commandeer a sofa she had seen in one of the bedrooms. She also wasn’t satisfied until Dean figured out how to make popcorn (the old-fashioned way – in a pan on the stove – since they don’t own a microwave). Charlie happily babbles about the merits of Christopher Nolan’s Batman, over that of Tim Burton’s, as she passes the popcorn to Castiel, who just stares at it.

“Angels do not need to eat,” Cas explains dryly.

“Yeah, but everyone loves popcorn!” Charlie counters.

“And you didn’t seem to mind with the coffee this morning,” Dean prods.

Cas seems too tired to argue with both Charlie and Dean, and takes some of the offered snack. They discover that Cas actually enjoys the salty food, as he eats nearly an entire bowl by himself.

Halfway into the third movie, Cas’ head slumps onto Dean’s shoulder. Dean looks over to notice that Charlie and Kevin have also fallen asleep, leaning up against each other. Dean squashes down his big brother urge to cover them both with a blanket. Besides, that would mean standing and disturbing the angel currently using him as a body pillow. 

With the free hand not currently trapped under a seraph, Dean brings it up to lie on Cas’ forehead, checking his temperature. He feels warm to the touch, but then Dean realizes he has no baseline for how angels are supposed to feel. All of that power inside a vessel probably burns quite hot. Like being chained to a comet, Jimmy had said. Then again, Lucifer had commented that he burned cold, but maybe that was just him and not all angels.

Dean finds his hand aimlessly stroking the locks of Cas’ hair off his forehead as his mind wanders. Once he realizes what he is doing, he can’t seem to stop. This is such a role-reversal from what had happened in Purgatory.

_Purgatory._

_That had been a wakeup call for Dean in so many ways. The year before had been such a cluster fuck; dealing with Leviathans, Cas going all crazy with his God powers, losing Bobby, and fearing for Sam’s life from his own inner demons. Dean couldn’t remember a time when he had felt more distraught and hopeless. Purgatory almost felt like a vacation compared to the real world. Dean didn’t know if being in Purgatory had reset him to his default settings, or if the ordeal had simply shown him what was really important. Dean had been able to revert to his basic hunter instincts, the man he had been his entire life. Like he had told Sam - it had been pure. Simple, really._

_Except for finding Castiel. That had been difficult. Weeks of searching and interrogating monsters – always feeling like he was two days behind on a cold trail. Benny would tell Dean every day that they should just leave Castiel behind. Dean would tell him to stow it, and try not to let his own insecurities show. He needed to keep his own hopes alive, so he prayed to the angel every night, wishing that Cas would hear him and come back. It had never occurred to Dean that Cas did not want to be found._

_When he had found Cas by that river bank, Dean had hugged him without a second thought. He didn’t trust his own eyesight, in case he was hallucinating. He had to wrap his arms around the angel to know he wasn’t imagining things. Cas hadn’t hugged him back, but he hadn’t flown off again either. They had stood there and come to an understanding. Dean finally knew why Cas had vanished on him as soon as they arrived, even if he didn’t like it. Dean understood all too well the instinct to protect the people you care about, and he had to believe that Cas was trying to do the right thing.Later that night, with Benny keeping watch, Dean and Cas had settled down at the base of a large tree to rest. Dean was so afraid that Castiel would disappear again, he couldn’t keep himself from touching the angel. A hand on a knee. A finger or two wrapped around a slender wrist. His palm gripping a trench coat clad shoulder, in an attempt to keep the angel grounded._

_Dean wanted to stay awake, to watch Cas all night, and make sure he didn’t leave again. But he had been so restless lately, unable to really sleep given his surroundings and Cas’ disappearance, that he couldn’t help but feel exhausted. His head started to slouch, and his eyes kept drifting shut, even as he fought to keep them open._

_“It’s alright Dean,” Cas whispered next to him, “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”_

_Then Cas gently coaxed Dean’s head onto his shoulder. Dean slipped off to sleep, pressed up against his friend._

***

Dean snaps out of his memories when he hears the front door to the bunker open. He wants to shout to Sammy where they are, but he doesn’t want to wake any of the others. The next Batman film is starting, so Sam will be able to follow the sound and locate them.

As Sam enters the study, Dean looks over to ask if he remembered the pie. The statement dies on his tongue as he sees the bewildered look on Sam’s face.  
“Sam? What is it? What–“ but the rest of the question evaporates, as the color drains from Dean’s face. 

Behind Sam is a man he thought he would never see again, not in this lifetime anyway. It’s his father, John Winchester.

John looks at his eldest son, and smiles slightly. Then his eyes scan the rest of the room, the other occupants on the couch, and finally on the sight of another man curled up asleep on his son’s shoulder. He doesn’t say anything, but Dean can see the emotions flit across his father’s face – confusion, awareness, and then disappointment. Dean’s instincts to impress his father, to be a good son and to obey, flare up inside of him after being dormant for so long. He actually feels embarrassment at being found like this, and struggles for words to explain what his father is seeing.

_Hey dad! Long time no see. Uhh, don't worry about a thing, I'm just relaxing here with a prophet, a hacker, and an angel. Yeah, an angel. Who knew they were actually real, huh? Well, maybe you did, because you've been in Heaven. Isn't that where you were? In Heaven, finally reunited with mom..._

The thoughts in Dean's head buzz around, which makes him feel dizzy. But of course he doesn't say any of it out loud. It sounds ridiculous, even for them. There is so much to explain he doesn’t even know where to begin.

 _Welcome back dad_ , he thinks to himself.


	3. Chapter 3

For a Winchester, coming back from the dead is kind of like returning home after a long vacation. Not that they ever take vacations, but the point still stands. Returning from the dead happens so often, Dean wonders if there will ever be a time when they actually stay dead. Still, it doesn’t explain why their father is back, or how it happened. It is hard to celebrate the family reunion until he can be sure everyone is safe. It is even harder to ignore the fact that Sammy had went behind his back and lied to him – again.

“You got a call from Missouri, and thought it was a good idea to keep that to yourself?!” Dean shouts, filled with rage at his brother.

“I wanted to go check it out on my own. What’s the big deal?”

“Of all the stupid things you have done lately Sam – this one takes the cake. You could have been killed!”

“Dean, I’m fine!” Sam argues back.

“Yeah, except for the part where you brought something back to our base that looks like our father. Could be anything Sam. A ghoul, a shifter, a witch using a glamour spell...”

Sam rolls his eyes, interrupting Dean’s lecture. “Dean, give me some credit. I have been hunting my whole life too.”

“He’s right, Dean,” says John, “He tested me with salt, holy water, silver, and Borax for some reason.”

“Leviathans. Long story.”

“I have a feeling there are quite a few stories I missed,” John responds dryly.

“Look Dean, I know this is a shock, but it is dad, okay?,” Sam continues, “He knew our birthdays, all the schools we went to, and even the combination on the weapons locker of the Impala. I don’t know how he’s here, or why, but it is him.”

Dean takes a deep breath, processing the information. If the man really is John, then the immediate danger should be past. The rest of the questions they can answer together. Dean steps forward offering his father his hand.

“Good to see you again, dad.”

John takes Dean’s hand and the grasp is the same firm Marine handshake that Dean remembers. The one John taught him how to give to people, if he wanted to “be a man.” This is definitely the real John Winchester.

“This isn’t going to be a Buffy rip-off is it? Like his soul was pulled out of Heaven?” Charlie wonders aloud to the room.

Kevin stares at her, like he can’t believe she just said that, while Castiel also stares, almost certainly because he didn’t understand her reference.

“That is a good question actually,” Sam says, “What is the last thing you remember dad? Where were you before coming here?”

“I don’t really remember much. Just woke up in our old front yard in Lawrence yesterday. Not a scratch on me. Didn’t even know what year it was until I walked over to Missouri’s to  
borrow her phone. That’s when she called Sam,” John explains.

“Great, not a lot of help there. So what exactly Missouri say when she called?”

“She told me to come to Lawrence and to hurry,” Sam says. “She didn’t say anything about dad. Just that she had seen something and it was important that I get there as soon as possible.”

“Important enough to leave your brother behind and run off into danger,” Dean growls under his breath.

“Drop it already, Dean.”

“Okay. So let’s ignore the fact that you got all the way to Lawrence, picked up our father, and brought him back here – without calling by the way, thanks for that. Was there anything else you neglected to mention?”

“Just that there was a terrible lightning storm in Lawrence last night. So strong, people thought it might be a freak tornado. It disappeared as quickly as it came. No one injured. Nothing out of the ordinary except for dad coming back, as far as we could tell.”

“A lightning storm? That’s it? So we’d better watch out the next time it rains, or we’ll be surrounded by all our cousins?”

“Dean, this is serious,” John interjects, giving him a stern look.

Dean rubs a hand down his face and lets out a long exhale. “I know. It’s just… it’s a lot to take in right now. Sorry,” he mumbles, “The last time one of us came back from the dead, we weren’t exactly in one piece.”

“Back from the dead? The last time?” John asks, a bewildered look on his face.

“Yeah. Long story,” Sam responds.

“Cliff notes version; Sam and I stopped the Apocalypse. But, he was possessed by Lucifer and ended up in Hell. Whoever pulled him out, left his soul behind.” Dean looks over to Castiel at this last part.

John looks from Dean to Castiel, over to Sam, and then back to Dean.

“This guy pulled Sam out of Hell?” John asks, confusing coloring his face.

“Uhh, well yeah,” Dean answers, “He’s an angel.”

John boggles at his eldest son. “You mean you’re shacking up with another man, and he’s not even human?!”

Dean is so thrown off by the absurdity of that statement, of the entire situation, that he doesn’t know whether to laugh or scream. Is that a rhetorical question? Does John actually expect him to answer that?

“Look, this is something you guys can argue about later, okay?” Sam says, “Right now, we have more important things to figure out. Namely, how dad got back, and if he’s even in one piece.”

“I can reach in, and see if he still has a soul,” Castiel offers.

“No!” all three Winchester men shout in unison.

“Cas, you’re not going to go reaching into my father. Especially, when you’re not at the top of your game. It’s not safe,” Dean snaps.

Castiel returns Dean’s stare with the same intensity as always and Dean doesn’t give an inch.

“If you two don’t mind, we have some work to do,” John interjects, breaking up the staring contest happening between his eldest son and an angel.

Dean and Castiel don’t say anything as they turn to head to the library, leaving John and Sam behind.

“Does that happen a lot around here?” John asks his youngest son.

“More often than you’d think,” Sam replies, following Dean and Castiel down the hall.

***

Hours later in the library, books and papers spread across all the tables, they are no closer to figuring out what might have happened to bring John back. Bringing someone back from the dead requires a lot of power. Castiel is fairly certain it wasn’t an angel, but they can’t rule it out. It’s not like Cas can pop into Heaven and ask, what with being on their Most Wanted List and all.

Charlie and Kevin sit at their own table, where they offered to help with the research, but Dean doubts they are getting much done because he keeps hearing murmured phrases like “elder scrolls” and “character classes” that he’s pretty sure have nothing to do with their current case. Dean loudly clears his throat and gives Charlie a pointed look when she glances up at him. She turns a faint shade of pink, and offers to go make everyone coffee. Kevin gets up and follows her into the kitchen. Castiel hovers by the doorway, unsure if he should continue to research with the Winchesters, or follow Charlie and Kevin.

“Are you going to ask your boyfriend to come sit down Dean?” John quips.

Dean grinds his teeth to keep from responding to that comment.

Sam stretches his long arms over his head, pointedly ignoring his brother and father. “There has got to be something we’re missing. Some clue we didn’t see.”

“I guess we’ll have to go back to Lawrence. Visit the old house and see what we can find there. It’s late already. Let’s all get a few hours of shut eye and we’ll head out in the morning,” Dean replies.

He pushes back from the table, and heads to his room. Sam can sort their dad out with a place to sleep. If Dean talks to the man any longer, he might not be able to control what comes out of his mouth. He spent his whole life being loyal to the man, becoming the good soldier his father always wanted him to be. He took care of Sammy, and gave up on a normal life to hunt monsters. What more does John want?

Dean is so caught up in his thoughts, he doesn’t even hear the angel quietly following him to his room. Only when he turns to shut the door, does he see the familiar figure in a trench coat standing in his doorway. It doesn’t even register to him that he’s not startled by Cas’ presence, until it strikes him as normal that Cas is standing in his bedroom, staring at him again.

“Feeling better today huh?” Dean asks to break up the silence.

“My vessel is healing, so it’s just a matter of time before my grace is back to full power.”

“Well, good to hear it man. Glad I could help,” Dean responds.

“So, tomorrow we will drive to Lawrence, to look for clues as to your father’s reappearance?” Castiel asks.

“Yeah, that’s the plan. It’s what Sam and I would do in any other case,” Dean shrugs.

“I know I am cutoff from Heaven, without some of my powers, but I would like to accompany you. In case it turns out to be a dangerous endeavor.”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, man. My dad’s not exactly the poster child for getting along with supernatural beings,” Dean explains. He imagines what a tense car ride it would be with the four of them, and shudders internally.

“John Winchester is not yet aware of his father’s lineage. The Men of Letters would often consult with supernatural beings on many matters. Why didn’t you and Sam tell him this?”

“Look, I’m still not a hundred percent convinced that there isn’t something evil at work here. People don’t just come back from the dead for no reason,” Dean says. Unless you’re a Winchester, he finishes in his head. “Plus, he thinks his dad took off when he was a kid. It’s a lot of baggage to unpack. Just easier to deal with one problem at a time.”

Cas nods but doesn’t say anything. He walks over to Dean’s desk, his fingertips lightly brushing the picture of Mary that Dean keeps there. Dean tenses, as he had when Castiel held John’s journal in his hands.

“You know, Mary Winchester always believed angels were watching over you Dean. She wasn’t wrong. Even before I pulled you out of Hell.”

Cas looks deep into Dean’s eyes at that. All the years they have known each other, and they have never discussed Mary. In fact, the only time John has come up is when they were talking about a hunt. Ironically, Dean thinks, it is because of John that Dean even met Castiel, if you wanted to look at it that way. Dean had been saved because of a deal John had made with a demon. So when Sam needed to be saved, Dean had done the same thing as his father, making a crossroads deal and landing himself in the Pit and in a position to be saved by the angel.

Dean briefly wonders if John would appreciate the irony or not.

“Your father does not seem to like me,” Castiel states, as if he had been reading Dean’s mind.

“Yeah, well, dad doesn’t like anything that distracts me from hunting. He always wanted me to be focused on finding the demon that killed our mom. He didn’t even like it when I tried to have a girlfriend. Must be driving him crazy that I’m getting distracted by an angel now --” Dean stops dead, realizing what he just said.

Dean turns to look at Cas, to explain what he meant, but is stopped by the expression on Cas’ face. It’s soft and open, slightly amused. It is a look Dean hasn’t seen since they were about to face down Dick Roman together. Dean opens his mouth to talk, but no words come out. He licks his lips, and clears his throat to try again. He can feel Castiel’s gaze on him, like a physical touch, the entire time. His toes tingle, and he realizes he might have been standing there for several minutes not saying anything, looking like an idiot. He opens his mouth to speak, praying for any words that will come out to make this situation less awkward. Castiel beats him to the punch.

“I understand your father has hang-ups with supernatural beings. Still, I would like to accompany you to Lawrence tomorrow,” Castiel says, “I will endeavor not to be a distraction during this hunt.” The last is said with a small smirk, that Dean’s stress-addled brain tries desperately to translate. Before he can get his mind on-track, to ask what the hell Castiel meant, the angel is out the door to his own room.

***

In the morning, when Dean goes to pour his coffee he grabs two mugs. His timing is perfect, it turns out, because Castiel enters the kitchen a few moments later and accepts the drink without question. Dean watches as he hums in appreciation, just smelling the coffee for a few moments, without even taking a sip. Cas looks slightly less rumpled than the morning before, but he probably doesn’t need to try to sleep every night. Dean opens his mouth to ask if Cas would like to try eating pancakes or waffles for the first time, when Sam bursts into the kitchen looking bewildered.

“Dean – dad’s gone.”


	4. Chapter 4

After a quick search of the bunker, it’s obvious John Winchester has flown the coop. To make matters worse, the bastard had taken the Impala. It doesn’t matter that the car had been his to begin with, John would have bought that ugly ass van if Dean hadn’t stopped him. Regardless of how Dean feels about his baby, they need to track down John as soon as possible. It is not safe for him to be out walking around, until they know who, or what, brought him back.

With the Impala gone, Dean has to swallow his pride and ask to borrow Charlie’s car. She teases him about speeding and bringing it back with a full tank, but hands him the keys. She offers to stay at the bunker with Kevin, in case John returns.

Dean squeezes into Charlie’s small car, next to Sam. Castiel takes a seat in the back, without further comment. Dean, too tired to argue anyway, guides the car onto the highway to track down their father.

***

It hadn’t been difficult to figure out where John was headed. He was the man who taught them to hunt, after all. Dean pulls up to the two-story house in Lawrence that once belonged to John and Mary Winchester. The Impala is parked out front, and John stands on the porch, shoulders hunched downward.

Dean slides out of the borrowed car, crossing the street to the house, softly gliding a hand over his Baby’s bumper as he walks past. Sam and Dean come to stand by their father on the porch. Cas remains on the sidewalk below, scanning the neighborhood for any signs of trouble.

“Thanks for leaving us a note,” Dean says to John, not in the mood to be polite. Sam shoots him a look, but Dean just ignores it.

“C’mon dad, let’s go back to the bunker until we can figure this out,” Sam says, trying to keep the peace.

John finally turns to look at Sam and Dean, as if he is only now realizing they are present. Sam tries again to coax him towards the sidewalk.

“You shouldn’t have come here alone dad. It isn’t safe for you until we figure out what brought you back.”

“It is I who am the gunner of God. When I roar, the Earth trembles!” John shouts at them both.

Dean squints in confusion at his father’s odd phrasing, but before he can reply there is a sharp crack of noise nearby, as the heavy hardwood door next to them splinters. A deep red symbol appears burned into the door. Dean’s hunter senses kick in, quickly scanning the area for threats, as he draws the demon knife out of his pocket. Nothing obvious jumps out at them. He looks over to Sam, who seems okay, but John is breathing heavily. He looks down at the sidewalk to where Castiel is looking around anxiously.

“It would be wise of us to leave Dean,” he growls, and Dean can’t argue with that. 

Dean looks back to the symbol in the door. He snaps a picture of it with his cell phone as Sam gets their father into Charlie’s car. They take off down the road as Dean and Cas jump into the Impala. They haul ass back to the bunker, hoping that nothing is following them.

None of them sees the man in a long dark coat watching them leave.

***

Sam and Dean are deep into the Men of Letters library, scanning what feels like every book on the shelves, trying to identify the symbol. Dean’s eyeballs feel strained from too much reading and not enough sleep. Finding one symbol out of thousands is a daunting task even on the best of days. Dean can feel his patience stretching even thinner, as John paces the room, not even bothering to pick up a book. Dean traces over the symbol on the printout from his phone, trying to recall if he’s ever seen it before. It’s in the shape of an “A” with lots of scrollwork, but nothing about it really stands out.

 

“Nothing yet,” Sam says, sounding disappointed, “I couldn’t even tell you which culture it’s from. I only wish we knew if there were more of these in Lawrence anywhere.”

“I will go and check,” Castiel says. He blinks out of the bunker before Dean can even protest.

Dean grits his teeth as he feels a jolt of panic race through his system. His hand clinches into a fist, itching to grab the Impala keys and chase after him. Before that plan can be put into action, Castiel returns to the spot where he left, but he sways on his feet and threatens to collapse. Dean is by Castiel’s side in an instant, his hands gripping the angel to keep him upright.

“Damn it Cas. You haven’t tried to fly since Crowley attacked you. What the hell were you thinking?” Dean asks, voice gruff with worry.

Cas ignores Dean’s accusation. “There were no other symbols in Lawrence that I could see,” he says.

Dean nods, short and tight, not trusting his voice at the moment. Cas wobbles again, but then seems to find his footing. Dean slowly removes his hands to see if the angel can stand on his own. He looks more stable, but Dean doesn’t trust it to last too long.

“I think it’s time you took a break Cas. Go and lie down for a bit. I’ll check on you in a few.”

Cas must sense that Dean isn’t joking, because he doesn’t protest. He simply nods, takes a quick look around the room at everyone else, and shuffles down the hallway. Charlie jogs to catch up, taking his elbow, and walking with him. Dean feels a swell of gratitude once again, for that brilliant woman.

His relief is short lived as John Winchester finally snaps at his eldest son.

“Okay, enough bullshit Dean. I want you to tell me, right now, exactly what is going on between you and Castiel.”

The accusation in his father’s voice, on top of dealing with this situation in the middle of the trials, is too much. Dean breaks. All of the frustration and anger he has felt over the past twenty-four hours comes bubbling out of him. 

“It’s nothing dad. Cas is just _MY_ angel!”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Dean realizes his mistake. That simple possessive word adds so many layers of meaning. Of course, Dean could have said “Cas is _an_ angel,” or “Cas is _our_ angel.” Nope. His brain had chosen to go with M-Y. Capital letters. Castiel: an Angel of the Lord, belonging to one Dean Winchester.

Dean can tell the slip did not go unnoticed by his father, or Sam. The latter giving him a mixed look of sympathy and understanding.

Surprisingly, John doesn’t yell back. He lets out a low sigh and holds up his hands. “Okay, Dean. No more fighting. I get it.”

Dean gives his father a disbelieving look, raising one eyebrow. “What?”

“I understand. I raised you and Sammy to be hunters. You were around so many men, that eventually you were going to get curious. But I never thought this would be something you would want for yourself – to be with another man, and give up on the chance at a normal life.”

“You’re wrong, dad. You’re the one who didn’t give us a chance at a normal life. You threw it all away to turn your kids into mercenaries and drag them around the country!” Dean snaps, surprising not only himself, but everyone else with the ferocity of his response. “And just for the record dad, Cas has been there for us more in the past four years than you ever were for us the whole time we were growing up.”

John stares at his eldest son, with a look of bewilderment. Probably more due to the fact that his son – ever the good soldier – had dared to raise his voice to his father, and less about what Dean had actually said.

“Your mother would be ashamed of who you’ve become,” John remarks coldly, words pushed out between gritted teeth.

Dean reels backwards, as if John had physically hit him. His brain draws a blank on how to even respond – indignance, anger, defiance – they all loop through his head, but none of them seem suitable. No, what Dean needs is less talking and more action. Right now, he needs to forget the past twenty-four hours. 

“I need a drink,” Dean says, heading for the kitchen.

***

Whiskey is more of a multi-purpose tool than most people realize. For a hunter, it is a necessity. It is liquid life support while doing hours of research, or an effective painkiller when coming back injured after another difficult hunt. Dean also discovered, long ago, that whiskey serves another purpose. It can be used to limit the effects of emotional issues such as guilt, depression, and anger. Dosage varies depending on the person, and several doses have to be taken for the full benefits to take effect. 

Dean fills a glass with a double shot of whiskey, amber liquid clinging to the side of the glass, and swallows it one gulp. The burn of the alcohol makes him cough. He pours himself another, and imagines he can already feel a buzz starting in his fingertips. It’s been a long time since he drank liquor. In fact, he hasn’t really had much to drink since he got back from Purgatory. It had been an alcohol-free zone, so he had been forced to sober up after the drinking binge that had been his life the year before. When he first got back, alcohol didn’t even sound appealing. Sure, he’s had a beer or two, and some of the Men of Letters stash when they moved in, but never drinking to the point of oblivion like before. Dean slams another double shot, and feels the burn sliding down his throat as the alcohol moves through his body. He ought to be good and drunk in no time at this rate. Dean starts to pour himself another shot, but is stopped by a hand on his wrist. So caught up in his own thoughts, that he didn’t even hear his gigantic brother walk into the room – which is a slightly terrifying thought.

“Dean look-“ Sam starts, but Dean cuts him off.

“I’m not good enough for him Sammy. Never was. I was only useful because I could watch out for you. That’s why he kept me around.”

“Dean, you know that’s not true.”

“Sure it is. But I keep fucking it up. Couldn’t keep you safe from Yellow Eyes. From Ruby. I’m not even good enough to make dad happy after he’s dead,” Dean laughs at that last, but it is a sharp humorless laugh, hardened by the booze and anger in his system.

“Shit, I can’t even have Castiel as a friend, without it causing a fight,” Dean remarks. He turns to see Sam giving him one of the saddest puppy dog looks ever. Yeah, he is definitely not drunk enough to deal with Sam when he’s like this.

“Look Dean, I’m not even going to pretend to fix you and dad, and everything going on between the two of you. But, you might want to ask yourself this one thing; if Cas is just a friend, if he’s just here temporarily, then why is dad’s opinion making you so upset?”

Dean knows it’s a rhetorical question, but he still can’t miss the look on Sam’s face, a mixture of sympathy and encouragement for Dean to find the answer. Damn it, his brother can be a real pain in the ass sometimes with all of his emotional, girly crap. Yet, Dean knows that Sam is right. He nods at his brother, and sets down his unfinished shot. 

“Thanks Sammy,” he says, with a clap on Sam’s back as he walks out of the kitchen, and down the hall to the bedrooms.

***

Dean should have been surprised – he really should have – to find Castiel in his bed. But, whether it was the stress of the day, or the whiskey in his system, he couldn’t find it in him to be bothered. No, the emotions rolling around in his stomach are something else. Namely confusion as to why Castiel is still wearing all of his clothes, before he remembers he hasn’t taught the angel about pajamas yet.

Dean stumbles over to the bed, the whiskey throwing him off balance. He kneels down on the mattress next to Cas, squinting in the soft light coming from the small desk lamp, to make sure the angel is still breathing. There is a steady rise and fall of his chest, so Dean relaxes. He checks Castiel’s forehead and finds he is still as warm as he had been during the movie marathon. Hopefully it is a normal temperature, and he’s not running a fever. How would Dean even take care of a sick angel?

The thought of Cas being sick or hurt, makes Dean’s stomach clench. He already wants to beat Crowley for what he did to Cas. He can almost feel what it would be like to have his knuckles connect with that smarmy bastard’s face, and the joy he would get from beating the demon. Outside of the fantasy, Dean uses his hands for comfort instead of violence, by stroking Castiel’s cheek. The angel starts to stir.

“Dean?”

“Hey Cas,” Dean responds, with a soft, lazy smile. “We really need to teach you about pajamas man, especially if you’re going to sleep in my bed.”

“I’m sorry for intruding,” Cas says, sitting up, “I just couldn’t sleep in my room. I thought I would come in here for a few minutes, but I didn’t mean to still be here when you came in.” Cas moves to get out of the bed, but Dean stops him with a firm hand to his shoulder. 

“I think you should stay here tonight.”

Castiel’s response is to give him a puzzled look.

“I mean,” Dean continues, swallowing around a lump in his throat, “that if you’re sick, or injured, you should stay here. So I can keep an eye on you – like you did for me in Purgatory.”

At that last, Cas relaxes and leans into Dean’s touch ever so slightly. Dean cannot help the contented sigh that escapes his lips, and before he can change his mind, he’s pushing the trench coat off Cas’ shoulders. Castiel doesn’t protest, but he doesn’t exactly help either. Dean takes it as a sign to continue, and Cas’ suit jacket soon follows. He lays out both jackets on a nearby chair, and kneels to remove Cas’s shoes and socks. When Dean gets to Cas’ ever-messy tie, he notices Cas’ adam’s apple bob beneath his fingers. Dean’s heart starts to beat double-time, as whiskey and adrenaline rush through his system. He pulls the blue silk through the collar and undoes the top button on Cas’ shirt.

“Dean?” Cas asks quietly, but his voice comes out rough like sandpaper.

“Shh, Cas, it’s alright. Just trying to make us a little more comfortable,” Dean replies. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret of humanity, Cas. It’s generally easier to sleep when you’re not wearing a suit and a trench coat.”

“But you’ve fallen asleep in your clothes many times,” Cas replies. “I’ve noticed on the occasions that I was watching you.”

Dean doesn’t comment, only smiles slightly as he helps Cas out of the dress shirt, leaving him in the t-shirt underneath. Then Dean steps back from the bed, removing his own shoes and socks to make his point about them both being comfortable. He undoes his jeans and lets them fall to the floor, Cas watching his movements all the while.

_This doesn’t mean anything. Cas is still just my friend. We’re just looking out for each other like we did in Purgatory. Only this time there is a bed_ , Dean thinks to himself. He wants to believe it, he really does. He almost buys the story he is selling himself, but then Cas stands to remove his own trousers and slide under the covers, his eyes never leaving Dean’s the entire time.

Dean knows he could stop now, go down the hall, and take another bedroom. That’s what his brain is thinking anyway, but his body has other ideas. He climbs into bed next to Cas, trying to will his heartbeat to slow down. He looks over to Cas, to ask if he’s still okay with this idea, but sees the angel shivering under the blankets. Without a second thought, Dean gathers Cas into his arms, pressing the dark-haired head against his chest, and rubbing his hand across Cas’ back to generate some heat.

“I guess you do run hot then?” Dean asks, as Castiel continues to shiver in his arms. “God, what did that bastard Crowley do to you?”

“He damaged my grace. Takes longer to repair myself now,” Cas huffs out, his breath warming Dean’s neck.

“Well he’s not going to hurt you while you’re here.” Dean responds. “Not on my watch.”

Dean inherently knows that Castiel can protect himself. Even at half-power he could probably smite a demon, no problem. Still, Dean thinks of the Colt lying under his pillow, how it could kill Crowley in one shot, and he feels a surge of protectiveness pulse through him.

“I’m going to watch out for you Cas. I won’t let anything hurt you while I’m around,” Dean promises. Impulsively, he presses a kiss to Castiel’s forehead. 

As he draws back, he realizes it didn’t feel strange to do that. The only awkwardness is now because of the fact that it felt normal to kiss Cas. He hears Sam’s words - _if Cas is just your friend, if he’s just here temporarily, then why is dad’s opinion making you so upset?_ – echo in his mind. Castiel is here, in his bed and in his arms, after being gone for so long. Dean’s heart clenches at that thought.

“Cas?” Dean whispers, “Do you think -“

 

“Dean,” Cas interrupts, “Not tonight. I have a headache.”

Dean can’t help the soft chuckle that escapes his throat. He really wasn’t intending to make a move. Dean had planned on asking if Cas wanted to stay in the bunker on a more permanent basis. He decides Cas won’t believe him even if he tells the truth. He pats the angel’s shoulder and closes his eyes. He also makes a mental note to ask Cas in the morning where he learned that phrase.

“Goodnight, Cas” he says, slightly relaxing his hold around the angel so they both can sleep.

“Goodnight, Dean,” is the softly murmured reply in the dark.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean wakes to the sound of giggling, accompanied by a soft clicking noise. Eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, he forcibly squints one eye open to see Charlie standing at the foot of his bed, camera phone in hand. Charlie is grinning, like she just won the lottery, and she doesn’t stop taking pictures. Wondering what she could possibly be so happy about, Dean looks down to see an arm wrapped around his waist and he realizes he is currently being spooned by an Angel of the Lord – and Dean is the little spoon. 

“I am _so_ going to use this for blackmail later,” Charlie croons.

“Charlie,” Dean whispers, “So help me, if those pictures are ever shown to another person I will—“

“I know,” she interrupts, “Winchester doom and gloom. Yada yada yada. Got it. Now, I hate to interrupt the lovely couple but, Kevin and I made breakfast, and Sam hit a break on the case.”

She twirls around, leaving the room without another word. Dean groans, but tries to look on the bright side; if someone was going to find them like this he’s glad it was Charlie.

***

Everyone else is in the kitchen by the time Dean and Cas get there. No one even says anything about them walking in together. Or about the fact that Dean automatically pours a cup of coffee for each of them. Charlie is loading up plates full of scrambled eggs at the stove, and Kevin is carrying them over to the table for her, an actual smile on his face.

Dean isn’t the only one who notices the prophet’s good mood. John smiles at Charlie. “So, you and Kevin? How long have you two been together?”

Charlie returns John’s smile, but it is more forced. “Oh, Kevin and I are just friends. Strictly platonic. Actually, I’m a lesbian. And I’m waiting for a call back from a fairy I want to hook up with.”

John gives Charlie a puzzled look, mouth comically hanging open. Dean has to fight back a laugh, and chooses to start shoveling eggs in his mouth instead of trying to get involved.

“Does anyone here just date humans anymore?” John wonders aloud.

***

After a quick breakfast, everyone moves to the library to check on the progress Sam made. He boots up his laptop. 

“So, check this out,” Sam says, as he scrolls through a website. “I wasn’t having much luck identifying the symbol. We really need to work on a better reference library for those by the way, preferably digital –“

“On it!” Charlie calls from the adjoining room.

“Okay, more explaining, less nerding out,” Dean says, hand twirling in the universal symbol for ‘wrap it up’. 

“Right,” Sam continues, “So instead of focusing on the symbol I did a search for that phrase that dad said; ‘It is I who am the gunner of God. When I roar, the Earth trembles’, and I got a match. It brought up this site about Voodoo spirits called Loa.”

“So some random nut job did some heavy duty Voodoo worshipping and brought our dad back to life?” Dean asks.

“I don’t think so. According to this, Voodoo actually has roots in Catholicism. It says here ‘Loa are actually fallen angels of sorts that God allows to still perform work for him among the humans’.”

“So what’s up Cas? Your cousins are out causing trouble, because of all the mix-up in Heaven right now?” Dean asks. “Does that sound right?”

“It is possible that with all of the disorder in Heaven right now, some of the lesser spirits could be out of control.”

“But you guys haven’t even heard the best part yet,” Sam says dryly, “That particular phrase is credited to the spirit called Agaou. He is the spirit in Loa culture most often thought of as the counterpart to the Archangel Michael.”

Dean and Sam exchange meaningful looks at this. Dean can tell exactly what his brother is thinking. Michael, the same Archangel who wanted Dean to be his prom date for Apocalypse 2010. The Archangel who had been able to use the younger John Winchester, and eventually Adam, as his vessels. The same Archangel who is currently permanent roommates with Lucifer in the cage. Somebody must be trying to raise Michael out of the cage, by using the John to do it. 

That means this isn’t a simple case of how John Winchester was brought back to Earth. It has suddenly gotten so much worse. If someone is poking around the cage, there is a chance they could Lucifer free too. Dean can tell by the panicked look on Sam’s face that he is thinking the same thing. 

“Not everyone speaks fluent Sam and Dean,” their father reminds them.

“It’s not good,” Sam explains, “We think someone could be trying to raise Michael from the Pit. They could raise Lucifer too, whether they intend to or not. It would be Armageddon Part II.”

“Man, I hate sequels,” Dean groans.

“If someone is trying to break open the cage,” Sam says, “There is only one place I can think they would go.”

Dean nods. “I’ll get all the gear packed and loaded. We leave in half an hour.”

“Where are we going?” John asks.

“Back to Lawrence. Stull Cemetery.”

***

One of the coolest features of the bunker, one that Dean loves even more than his bedroom or the kitchen, is the underground garage where he can park the Impala. It is safer than leaving her out in the open. Dean likes to spend time with the old Chevy when he can, because it relaxes him to polish the smooth black metal or tinker with the engine – things he knows he can fix. That’s where he is now, getting everything loaded and ready to go. Doesn’t take long for his father to find him. Of course, he would know where the car is, since he took her for a joy ride earlier. 

“I’m glad you and Sam have this base. It’s good that you’re secure,” John says, attempting to start a conversation. Dean pretends he hasn’t heard him. John’s earlier comments about Cas still sting in Dean’s mind, and he knows it won’t do any good to bring them up.

“You did take care of my baby,” John comments. Dean isn’t sure if he’s referring to the Impala, or maybe Sam, and he doesn’t ask.

“I can see it was the right choice to give her to you. I always knew you had a soft spot for this car.”

Car it is then. Not that Dean’s record with her, or Sammy, is perfect. 

“I rebuilt her from the ground up – twice. Once after that semi hit us,” Dean looks over to John. The implied _‘The night we went to the hospital and you died’_ hangs between them. “Also had to rebuild her once after a swarm of demons rolled her over. That was back when Castiel was making a deal with the King of Hell.”

That makes John quirk an eyebrow. “You know, telling me that your angel was best buds with the King of Hell, isn’t exactly the way to get me to like him.”

Dean shrugs. “We’ve all done things we aren’t proud of, to do what we thought was right at the time. Cas knows what he did wrong, and we’ve moved past it. Besides, it’s not like you’d ever be friends with him anyway.”

John runs his hand along the roof of the Impala, studying the paint intently. Dean thinks the conversation is over, but then John clears his throat and looks over to his son.

“Look, I’m not saying this isn’t a shock. The day you were born, I pictured your entire life stretching out ahead of you. School, marriage, and kids of your own. Lost most of that the night of the fire. I had to raise you boys to be hunters instead. I always thought we would find that demon in a few months, and be able to get back to our lives. Then months stretched into years, and I had to do a lot that I’m not proud of.” 

Dean can feel the tears starting to sting at the corners of his eyes. He says nothing, because nothing he can say would change what happened.

“But I always thought you would eventually end up married to a nice woman, Dean. Have a couple of kids, and get out of this life of being a hunter.”

Dean barks out a short laugh. “Yeah, you missed the boat on that one dad. I actually did try to have that life. I lived with a woman and her son for a year, but all it did was put them in danger. And it made me realize that this is who I am always going to be – a hunter.”

John slowly shakes his head. “You have to understand Dean, that’s not what I ever wanted for you. It’s not what your mother would have wanted either. I’m sorry.”

After a moment, Dean speaks up, emotions making his voice even gruffer than normal. “You know, mom always said angels were watching out for me. I guess she was right.”

At the mention of angels, John tenses up again. “Really, Dean? Out of all the people you could choose to have in your life, why him?”

“I know you’re not big on Cas, but you need to understand that he’s not going anywhere. He has been there for me, and Sammy, time and again. He pulled me out of Hell – literally. He rebelled against Heaven. He fought his own brothers for us. He’s even died for us a time or two. He is important dad. He’s family.”

John must sense the conviction in his son’s voice. For the first time since he arrived, he’s able to look Dean square in the eye. He steps forward, and offers Dean his hand.

“I trust you, Dean. I’ll learn to deal with it.”

Dean grabs his father’s hand, and pulls him in for a hug instead.

***

John slides into the backseat of the Impala next to Cas, and Dean eyes them warily in the rearview mirror. This could be a very long ride. John turns to Castiel, sizing him up before he speaks.

“So, you pulled Dean out of Hell?”

Cas’ eyes briefly flick to Dean’s in the mirror, but he quickly gives John his full attention.

“Yes.”

“And Sammy too?”

“I did.”

“Guess that means I owe you a thank you,” John replies. 

Before Castiel can respond, John extends his hand towards the angel. Castiel’s eyes flick towards Dean’s again, to find him staring at the proceedings. He gives Cas an encouraging nod. Castiel turns back to John, and accepts his handshake.

“That’s what family is for,” he tells John.

***

They arrive at Stull Cemetery with less fanfare than when Dean drove in years ago. The cemetery looks ordinary, as far as cemeteries go. Gray slate headstones sit in short rows and the grass is withered, and dying, since no one cares for the cemetery anymore.

They walk over to the site where Lucifer’s cage was opened, and the ground looks intact. Dean had been expecting to find an altar built on the site, or some sigils burned into the grass. Dean looks over to see Sam anxiously rubbing the faded scar on his palm. Poor guy is probably remembering the last time he was in this cemetery, and Dean feels a twinge in his own chest at the memory. 

“Looks clear Sammy. Maybe we finally got lucky for once,” Dean says.

“Don’t you boys ever learn?” a gruff voice asks from behind them.

They all turn to find a tall man in a long, dark coat giving them an unpleasant smile. Dean doesn’t recognize him, but he looks like could be a bouncer or body guard. The man is broad-shouldered and has one of those short, cropped haircuts. His features look like they have been carved out of stone, so that the smile he is wearing looks hard and distorted.

“Azrael? It was you all this time?” Castiel questions the dark figure.

“Cas, you know this guy?” Dean asks.

The man answers Castiel, as if Dean hadn’t spoken at all. “Of course it was me brother. What other angel would have the power to pull souls from Heaven?”

“Not even you could manage it, Azrael. Not without alerting all the other angels to what you were doing.”

“Maybe I had some assistance from the Loa to help cover my tracks. It doesn’t matter. I was still able to lure all of you here. The Winchesters are so predictable. You’ve been spending too much time with them Castiel.”

“Look, dick,” Dean can’t help but interject, “I don’t know who you are but Cas – “

Dean feels a sudden stabbing pain in his throat, and starts coughing hard enough to bruise his ribs. He falls to his knees, feeling dizzy, and starts coughing up blood.

Azrael sneers at him, his nostrils flare and his eyes flash dark. “No input is required from you. All I need is for Castiel to hand over the angel tablet, and for your father to agree to be Michael’s vessel on Earth. It was so easy to get this done in a two-for-one deal.”

Azrael laughs at his own joke, as Dean continues to cough up blood. His vision is beginning to blur, as his lungs attempt to gather oxygen. Sam kneels on the ground beside him, trying to help him breathe, but there’s nothing he can do when Dean is being gutted from inside his own body. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean sees Castiel draw his angel blade from inside his sleeve, and advance towards Azrael.

“Let Dean go,” Cas growls.

“Certainly brother,” Azrael sneers, “Just hand over the angel tablet, and the Winchester’s father, and I will allow you all to live.”

Cas looks to Dean, expression full of helplessness. Dean wouldn’t know what to say even if he could speak. If they could keep Azrael talking longer, they might be able to distract him or find a weak spot. Castiel has his angel blade, but since he is still not fully healed, it’s hard to say if he would win in a one-on-one fight with another angel.

“Hey, don’t I get a say in this?” John interrupts.

Azrael turns to John, eyes cold and unflinching. He sneers at the human before him. “You will say yes, because it’s the only way to save your sons,” Azrael says.

That’s when Sam drops to his knees beside Dean and starts coughing up blood too. Dean feels a panic for Sam, more than he feels for himself. Sam is still going through the trials. He isn’t strong enough to handle this.

Dean isn’t the only one worried about Sam. John steps in front of Castiel, putting himself between the two angels. 

“Then I’m all yours,” John says.

Despite his lungs filling with blood instead of air, Dean tries to warn his father, but it’s too late. The next few minutes happen so fast, with the lack of oxygen to his brain making everything spin, Dean almost has trouble following exactly what happens. 

John stares down Azrael, he moves his hand behind his back, and makes a grabbing motion towards Castiel. Castiel places his angel blade in John’s hand, and John comes out swinging at Azrael. Azrael is actually surprised at the move and startles backwards. It breaks his concentration enough that Dean can feel oxygen moving into his lungs again. He looks over to see that Sam is breathing, but lying in the grass unconscious. 

Dean looks back to the fight to see his dad and Azrael circling each other. John has gotten in at least one hit, because there is a bleeding gash on Azrael’s face. Azrael growls at John, a guttural battle cry, as he lunges at John. John sidesteps just in time, and uses Azrael’s momentum to drive Castiel’s angel blade into his chest. Azrael’s body contorts around the blade, and Dean would scream with joy if his throat weren’t burning with pain. They actually won.

Or so he thinks.

Azrael straightens up, laughing. The blade is still embedded in his chest, but there is no light spilling out of it. He grins at John, and it’s as cold and calculating as any of the evil smirks Dean saw from Zachariah or Raphael.

“Nice try, human. But only an archangel blade can kill an archangel. Maybe once Michael resurrects you, you’ll have learned some respect for the angels in charge around here.”

At those words, he twirls his own blade in his hand, before stepping forward to bury it in John’s gut. John falls to his knees in front of Azrael, gripping the blade in his stomach. Dean tries to call out, crawling towards his father. The movement is a mistake, as Azrael turns on him.

“I’m sure there’s no reason to keep you around. I’ll tell Michael you said hello when he arrives to possess your father.”

Azrael blinks at Dean, and once again Dean’s air is cut off. He starts coughing and choking, lying there in the dirt. His lungs are screaming in pain, and his brain just wants to shut down. But he fights it. There has to be something he can do. Dean hasn’t been fighting monsters his whole life just to die gasping in the dirt because of some dick angel.

Dean really should have considered his own angel in the equation. While Azrael focuses on Dean, Castiel removes the archangel blade from John and advances on Azrael. Before he can even turn around, Castiel drives the blade into his chest, and the white light of Azrael’s grace spills out of his vessel. He falls to the ground at Castiel’s feet.

Dean, once again, breathes in the sweet oxygen that floods into his lungs. He doesn’t think he’ll take breathing for granted ever again. It definitely feels like he bruised a few ribs, but he knows he’ll be okay. He just needs his family to be okay too. He gets up on hands and knees, and crawls over to Sam, because he is the closest. Sam is breathing, which is a good sign.

“Sam? Sammy!” Dean shakes his shoulder, trying to wake him up, but no luck.

“Damn it Sam, you can’t do this to me now. Cas, come check on Sammy, he’s not waking up.”

Castiel kneels to check on Sam, lying a palm on his forehead. Content that his brother is going to be okay, Dean crawls over to John. He’s still breathing too, eyelids fluttering as he tries to stay awake. Dean checks his pulse, and finds it weak and irregular.

“Dad? Can you hear me?” he asks.

John’s eyes open at the sound of Dean’s voice, as it gives him something to focus on. Dean takes his hand and squeezes.

“C’mon dad. Hang in there. You didn’t come back from the dead just to die again did you?”

Dean knows he’s rambling, but he can’t seem to stop himself.

“Sorry about all of this dad. We shoulda warned you. Angels can be a real bitch sometimes,” Dean says.

“Not all of them,” John rasps, as his eyes slide over to Dean’s side. Dean looks to find Castiel standing there.

“Okay, Cas. Get to healing him too. C’mon, we’ll all get healed up, and go back to the bunker. Beers are on me.”

“Dean, I can’t,” Cas says.

“What do you mean _can’t_?” Dean spits out.

“Dean-“

“Damn it Cas, is it really too much to ask that you heal my brother and my dad?”

“Yes!” Cas shouts in annoyance.

Dean sits back on his heels, stunned at Castiel’s tone.

“Dean, Sam is in a coma. The trials already took so much out of him, that what Azrael did damaged him even further. I can wake him, but then I wouldn’t be able to heal your father. My grace is still weak and it’s too much for me. I can only heal one of them."

Dean breaths heavily, but it feels like he isn’t getting any oxygen again. It feels like there is a hand on his throat, squeezing the life from him. Only this time he knows it’s all in his mind.

“Dean,” John rasps, “You have to save Sammy.”

Dean knew that would be his father’s answer, but it still hurts. Tears sting the corners of his eyes. His father has been a pain in the ass the past few days, but that doesn’t mean he is ready to lose him again so soon. He looks at his father lying in the dirt, breathing in his last breaths, almost gone from him again. He decides he can be the man his father raised him to be one last time. Dean swallows down his emotions, like a physical lump in his throat.

“I’ll take care of Sammy, dad. Of course I will.”

John gives him a weak smile and squeezes his hand. Then he turns to Cas.

“You look out for my boys, you hear?” he asks, but it’s not really a question. Castiel seems to understand and he gives John his most sincere expression.

“I will,” he promises.

***

Castiel hadn’t been able to heal John Winchester, but he had personally escorted his soul into Heaven. Dean had tried to argue that Cas wasn’t strong enough, but the angel had insisted that he help in what little way he could. It seemed that, at the end, John and Cas had come to some kind of mutual understanding.

After returning from Heaven, Castiel had healed Sam as best he could. There was still long-term damage from the trials, that they all knew wouldn’t be cleared until Sam completed the tasks. But, he was slightly improved from when they had gone to Colorado, and that was all Dean could ask for.

Sam was distraught to learn he had been unconscious when their father had died. Dean worried that the emotional strain might be too much on his younger brother, but he had pulled himself together as Dean had done. They gave their father a hunter’s funeral, fittingly in the same place where two of his sons had been lost all those years ago. As Dean watched the pile of ashes burn down to cinders he thought he would be happy if he never returned to that cemetery as long as he lived.

***

Dean, Sam, and Cas return to the bunker to find a note from Charlie. She had gone to check on one of her cousins in Nebraska, and said she would call soon. 

“Well, I guess that’s one less for dinner then,” Dean says. He doesn’t feel the humor in his words, but he pretends anyway. It’s like a mask that he slips into, to keep from falling into the dark pit that keeps threatening to swallow him whole.

“I’ll go let Kevin know we’re back,” Sam says, and disappears down the hallway in search of the prophet.

That leaves Dean and Cas alone for the first time since they had slept in Dean’s bed together. Dean knows it’s too soon to bring that up, but he can’t help but feel a sense of longing at the thought. The idea of crawling into bed with Cas, and sleeping for about a week, sounds as good as anything else right now. He knows he just lost his father again, but Sam is about to complete the trials which will finally feel like a win. Plus, they have their bunker, they saved Kevin, and Castiel finally returned to him with the angel tablet. They’ve been in worse spots before.

“Hey Cas, thanks again for healing Sammy. And helping our dad. I know you would have saved them both if you could,” Dean says.

Castiel looks at Dean with a soft gaze. “Transporting your father’s soul to Heaven did deplete some of my strength, but I’m glad I could help. I wish I could have done more.”

Dean nods, unable to say more. Thinking about John again so soon is more than a little painful and raw. Dean latches onto a new topic, desperate to focus on the good news.

“Hey, nice work taking down Azrael man. It’s a good thing you didn’t have to give up the angel tablet. We don’t need those dicks having control of it.”

Castiel’s facial expressions aren’t the most obvious in the world, but they are noticeable to Dean. The angel immediately goes stiff, and averts his gaze, unable to look Dean in the eye. Dean feels his mask of false bravado crumbling around him.

“I don’t have the tablet anymore, Dean. Crowley took it from me,” Cas says quietly.

It takes a moment for the words to actually register in Dean’s mind. He is sure that can’t be the end of Castiel’s sentence. Surely, he meant to say he had lost it and then gotten it back. There’s no way Crowley can possess the angel tablet, because that isn’t good news for any of them. When Castiel still refuses to look Dean in the eye, that’s when Dean is forced to face the truth.

“Let me just see if I have this straight; Sam and I helped you find the angel tablet, and you nearly kill me trying to take it from me in that crypt. Then, instead of trusting me to help you keep it safe, you take off to God knows where with it, and let it fall into the hands of Crowley?!”

Dean’s whole body is vibrating with anger. He knows he should calm down, but he can’t. It’s just too much to deal with on top of everything else that’s happened. How many times is it going to take to convince Cas that he’s important and that Dean needs him around? Hasn’t Dean already proved how much he could forgive Castiel for? Didn’t Dean make it clear that all the bad shit between them is in the past?

It is just one more person in Dean’s life that he can’t seem to please.

It is one more obstacle that he cannot deal with right now.

“Look, Cas, you can stay here until you’re healed up. But, and I’m only going to say this once, you need to figure out where it is that you want to be. If you’re going to be here, you have to start trusting me. That’s the only way this is going to work.”

Castiel still won’t look him in the eye, so Dean gives up, and walks away. Maybe Cas should know what it’s like to get a taste of his own medicine.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean finds Sam in the library, holding John’s journal. He looks sick, and more tired than Dean has ever seen him. Dean keeps thinking if they can just close the gates of Hell, then things will get better. Sam has always said he wants to stop hunting, and maybe he should be. He’s always been trying to get away – to Stanford, to law school, to a better life. Dean wants that for him. Even if he’s never been able to say that, he does want Sammy to have a normal life if he can.

But what does Dean want for himself? Sometimes the pressure of everything he has to face feels like it is physically pressing down on him. It feels like he’s trying to tread water, but something keeps trying to push him under.

Dean feels like his life has been a series of “just one more”. Just one more monster to kill. Just one more state to drive across searching for their dad, for Yellow Eyes, for Lucifer and the other monster dicks. Just one more Apocalypse to stop. One more demi-god to face. One more child to try and save. One more family member who left him too soon. Until Dean can’t handle it anymore.

“There’s so many things I didn’t get to tell him – we didn’t get to tell him,” Sam says, interrupting his thoughts, “He still never found out about Henry. Or how we got this bunker.”

“I’m sure he knows. Now that he’s back in Heaven,” Dean replies.

“Is everything okay with Cas?” Sam asks, trying to change the topic.

“Cas is fine,” Dean barks out. He doesn’t care that he sounds tense. Maybe if Sammy picks up that he’s in a bad mood he’ll let the whole thing drop.

No such luck.

“Are you sure?” Sam presses.

“Damn it Sam, do we really have to talk about our feelings now? Don’t we have more important things to do? Like slamming the gates of Hell shut?”

Sam gives him a hurt puppy dog look, and mumbles something about research. Dean almost feels bad for taking out his anger on Sammy, but he isn’t going to apologize for it. Besides, he is right. Finishing the trials and locking up all the demons is the only thing that matters now.

“I’ll go dig up the Men of Letters files about healing demons,” Dean says, in a final tone that lets Sam know their discussion is over. Sam nods at him and sets his jaw, as he goes back to his books.

Dean walks down the hallway, shoving all of his personal feelings away where he won’t have to think about them. Closing Hell is Priority #1.

Everything else will just have to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is, by far, the longest fic I have ever written in my life. I know it';s lacking in prose (and probably a few other things) but I'm glad I saw it through to the end. I hope I can get better with time. And maybe, if I'm lucky, I will have shed some light on a few spots in canon that were left in the dark. 
> 
> I really didn't want to end the fic on a unhappy note, but writing in canon doesn't lend itself to much fluff or sunshine.
> 
> This fic is the product of a village helping an author reach her goal. Thank you to my artist [Veloshe](http://veloshe.livejournal.com/), who is more talented than I could ever hope to be. A huge thank you to my betas [Fea](http://jimmynovakisaved.tumblr.com/) and [Kara](http://beerstiel.tumblr.com/)! Your insights were invaluable, and I could not have written this without either of you! Also thank you to [Frec](http://literaryoblivion.tumblr.com/), who told me to keep writing when I wanted to quit.
> 
> And, I couldn't forget to thank [Kayla](http://kayla-ships-klaine-and-destiel.tumblr.com/) for her support. This fic was written to fulfill a [prompt she posted](http://destielficprompts.tumblr.com/post/51944287577/john-meets-castiel-charlie-and-kevin-and-wonders), and she has been so patient to wait for the results. I hope I lived up to your expectations and I'm glad we've become friends because of this fic!
> 
> I did a lot of research for this fic (like a true Winchester) and if anyone wants to read the website Sam is referencing in Chapter Four it can be found [here](http://www.hougansydney.com/voodoo-spirits.php). Send me a message if you'd like to see my other sources for the supernatural aspects.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading! Come say hello on my [Tumblr](http://deanandishareamoreprofoundbond.tumblr.com/) anytime!


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